


Like a damn mutt

by king_particle



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Emetophilia, Inappropriate Erections, M/M, Minor Humiliation, No Plot/Plotless, certainly not beta read, kicking, puke, yall I don’t know what to tag this as it’s pretty self explanatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23050249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/king_particle/pseuds/king_particle
Summary: Anon asked || cliff kicking  Higgs in the stomach until he pukes and then stepping on his head to force his face in it........?
Relationships: Higgs Monaghan/Clifford Unger
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	Like a damn mutt

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I’d post something quick as next week I’m talking a whole break from drawing and typing again😔 carpal tunnel isn’t fun folks
> 
> This isn’t *that* nasty, but I thought I’d upload this here rather than main. I would’ve rather updated my fic (not here) that actually has plot, but there’s a very low chance of that happening :( so have this, something quick easy and simple

Barbed wire materializes and tangles around Higgs’ boot-clad ankles. 

He hits the ground so suddenly, he only realizes it when he starts breathing again. 

“ _ Christ _ ,” Higgs hisses, throat dry, he can smell sulfur and gunpowder in the air so thick he can taste it. The constant sounds of bullets and tanks and bombs annoying in the background. “You tryna kill me, pops?”

“I  _ will _ kill you. If you don’t help me find my BB.” He says simply, eyelids lowering just a fraction, the hard crease of his mouth curving. 

His damn  _ fucking _ BB. That’s all he wants. All he  _ fucking _ talks about. Talk about  _ something _ else for fucks sake!

“I don’t  _ know _ where your  _ precious BB _ is—“

Cliff kicks Higgs in the teeth. The force throws his head and upper body back, pain blazing across his whole face, all of his mouth. He tastes blood. 

_ Fuck _ . He has a boner again. 

The same boot comes down so hard on his stomach he nearly swallows his tongue. Higgs’ whole abdomen  _ lurches _ , muscles panicking. He’s drooling, mouth lulled open like a dog’s. He has to remind himself how to breath and to blink his eyes. 

“ _ Listen _ , motherfucker.” Higgs starts off. His voice sounds embarrassingly weak and thin, “I don’t  _ fucking _ know, alright!? I don’t even know how I got here.”

Higgs can see a hint of straight white teeth when Cliff grimaces at his words. Higgs wants those teeth buried in the skin of his shoulder, his neck. 

This fucker is a  _ problem _ . Not only are his supercells fucking terrifying— and that’s something coming from the God of Death himself— but he’s persistent. He’s only killed Higgs once, and that wasn’t even to get any info from him. 

“You must, of you’re here.”

Cliff leans his weight on Higgs’ stomach, never having removed it, and that’s when Higgs notices.

He’s lost his own BB pod. 

“What—  _ the fuck. _ ” He spits, slapping his chest with his hands like it’s turned invisible. It  _ hasn’t _ , it’s just fucking  _ gone _ . Fuck. Shit, fuck that’s— this isn’t good. She gave it to him to  _ connect _ them to each other, protect Higgs. But— if he doesn’t have it then- then he can’t do  _ anything _ .

“What did you do with my BB? You fucker?  _ Huh _ ?” Higgs says. Cliff grimaces again. Or smirks. It’s hard to tell at this angle. 

“Wonderful. Looks like we have something in common.”

“Like  _ fuck _ we do! You can’t compare my BB to yours! Do you  _ know _ who I am?”

Higgs’ rant is cut short with another stomp. Higgs holds back a heave, breath rushing out of him instead. 

“You’re an  _ annoyance _ .”

And he does it  _ again _ . 

_ Those boots feel awfully familiar.  _ Being in a shallow puddle of tar is less so. 

Higgs can’t find the energy to not heave this time, and the blows only getting stronger don’t help. Bile stings his throat before filling his mouth. The most recent thing he’s eaten is a handful of cryptobiotes so there’s nothing inside him. 

Stomach acid and tar dribble down his chin. He gasps like a fish out of water, making accompanying gurgling noises too. 

His throat  _ smarts _ , and he has to swallow multiple times to wrench oxygen into his lungs. He feels thick tar— distinctively  _ Cliff’s— _ fill the space between his teeth and cheeks, under his tongue. It’s like the embers that seem to emanate from Cliff constantly eventually melt into tar, depositing itself into his mouth like that’s where it belongs.  _ Maybe it does. _ Maybe Higgs is just some dump for Cliff to use. Not that he’s complaining… he’s used to getting used by daddies. 

Cliff grinds the hard heel of his boot into Higgs’ very soft stomach. Somehow— and Higgs doesn’t know how he didn’t realize sooner— the armor that covers his front seems to have disappeared. So has his mask, his weapons— they’re probably all where his BB pod is…

He  _ has _ to find it. He’s no match for this man. 

He retches somewhat unprompted, more bile spilling from his mouth, a little copiously; worryingly so. He  _ definitely _ didn’t have that much in him. 

_ Fuck _ , he means to say, but his throat is so sore only a whimper comes out. The  _ particle of god _ doesn’t whimper. 

Higgs slaps a hand on the man’s ankle, in any attempt to get him to  _ hold on a damn minute _ . Higgs spits the mouthful of tar and bile to the side. It’s a disgusting non-mixing solution that’s expelled on the tar that Higgs is already laying on. His puke is clear-pink in the low light, and there’s flecks of chiralium crystals glinting. Even though the tar on the inside and outside tastes of Cliff, what Higgs has thrown up looks… different. Must be his blood mixed with it. 

Cliff lifts his boot, but Higgs puts up his hands half in surrender.  _ God _ he’s dizzy...

“Just wait one goddamn minute! How the  _ fuck _ is beating me gonna bring back your BB?  _ Shit _ .”

Higgs moves to roll over, to then pull himself up, but he doesn’t get far. Rolling onto his aching, bruised stomach disorients Higgs so much he pukes  _ again _ , it’s more obvious this time, as the puddle of tar has shrunken, filling in the space of the rocks and pebbles here.. It’s absurd; he really  _ didn’t _ have that much of anything in him. There’s spit and tar on his face. It feels like his muscles constrict his intestines, making everything fucking  _ ache _ . Higgs barely realizes he’s crying, been crying for the past while; cheeks a mess of black, similar to his chin, which is currently caked in tar. 

It drips from his mouth viscously while he’s laying there, still, in an attempt to get his bearings together. His teeth are stained black and red. What does this fucker get out of this? He’s definitely no sadist; Cliff doesn’t have that  _ spark _ when he hurts Higgs. He does it because he thinks he has to. But for  _ what _ ?

His boot presses to the back of his head, pushing harder. Higgs tries so  _ hard _ to keep himself up, but he  _ really doesn’t  _ have the energy to do so. Cliff’s boot slowly presses his face lower, closer to the ground. 

Higgs asks himself what the  _ fuck _ does Cliff get out of this again when his face is pressed into the dirty ground, right into what he’s most recently expelled. His face is somehow even dirtier now. He’s continuously treated like some bad mutt; his face buried in the mess he’s made.  _ Could be worse.  _

Higgs grits his teeth, cheek pressing painfully in between them and the rocky ground. He closes an eye to prevent frigid tar from getting into it. 

“You’re such a bother. You know that?”

Higgs wheezes out a cackle, spittle flying. “You think you’re the first person to hear that from?”

**Author's Note:**

> There needs to be more emeto fics with Higgs I’m begging y’all... I’m bringing all the food to the table here
> 
> Leave a kudos or comment if you want


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